


We're Written in the Stars

by Magical_Misadventures_in_Miscellany (SilverMillennium_QueenNeptune)



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Hurt Cristóbal Rios, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lost Love, Multi, Post Traumatic Dysphoria, Post-Season/Series 01, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMillennium_QueenNeptune/pseuds/Magical_Misadventures_in_Miscellany
Summary: My first Star Trek: Picard fic.  Contains some slight canon divergence from the end of Season 1 and may contain Season 1 spoilers.  After their successful mission to rescue Dr. Soji Asha, the motley crew aboard La Sirena loses a member when Agnes Jurati decides to face the consequences of her actions. An emotionally wounded Cristobal withdraws to deal with the blow, but the retreat is short-lived when  Picard answers a distress call from a Federation signal on a planet long believed to be abandoned.  What he and Rios find turns the captain's life, and his heart, upside down.After the tragedy aboard the ibn Majid, Tactical Officer Guadalupe Silva was presumed dead. Chris believed he had gotten over her death long ago. But when a very much alive and desperate Guadalupe sends out a distress call, she and Chris are pulled back to each other and the undeniable connection they shared. Is it too late to give love a second chance, or was their fate written in the stars?
Relationships: Agnes Jurati/Cristóbal Rios, Cristóbal Rios & Alonzo Vandermeer, Cristóbal Rios/Original Female Character(s), Jean-Luc Picard & Cristóbal Rios, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Raffi Musiker & Cristóbal Rios, Raffi Musiker & Jean-Luc Picard, Soji Asha & Cristóbal Rios
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress, chapters are a guess at this point. TW in this chapter for mentions of suicide

Chris Rios sank into the captain’s chair with a resigned sigh. It had been a long day, and he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. He had half a mind to confine himself to quarters. Chris had begun to believe he was losing his mind. For God’s sake, he’d been discharged from Starfleet. He shouldn’t have cared about Captain Picard and his quest to save Dahj Asha’s long lost sister Soji. He didn’t want to go with them. He didn’t deserve another grand captain, another Starfleet to the core speech maker invading his heartstrings and pulling on them when Chris was still sore over the first great captain in his life. The one who had treated him like a son until. . . Well. . .

“Damn it!”, he cursed, aiming to hurl the glass at the wall. Instead, he shrank and curled into a ball in his chair, barely setting it down before he could crack it. It wasn’t lost on Chris that he was still here even though his captain wasn’t. Before he had time to think, Emil appeared. He hated that hologram at times, but it was necessary. Every ship needed a doctor. The fact that the physician looked like him should be a deterrent, but it made him more comfortable. Rios had gotten used to the years of talking to himself. That was what happened when you were trapped on a ship waiting for someone to hire you. His frustration got the better of him.

“The hell are you doing here, Emil? I didn’t activate you.”, Chris snapped. These holos were programmed to come when they were summoned, right? How had they not gotten that memo? Chris sighed, placing his head in his hands. He wanted to think about something else. Why wasn’t he drunk right now?

“But you also haven’t deactivated me yet. That tells me you know you require my assistance.” He hated it when the program snarked at him with his own face. It reminded Rios of looking in a twisted mirror where nothing was the same in the reflection as it was in reality. Emil was staring at him now, head cocked quizzically to one side, studying him. The hologram’s eyes began to spin as Emil searched his memory banks of medical knowledge, knowing Chris would not allow a proper examination. There was no time, he had a ship to fly. Excuses, excuses, excuses.

“Deacti—.”, Rios began, but before he could finish his sentence, Emil spoke again.

“Ah. I see what this is.” Really? Someone else understood what was going on in his brain, he wished someone would tell him.

“Oh, fuck off already, would you? I don’t need psychoanalysis right now.” He wanted to enjoy his drink and get some sleep for once. He hadn’t slept well since meeting Picard. It was wearing him too thin, and even the holoprograms were worried.

“Not until you deactivate me.”, Emil took a seat next to Chris and sighed. Rios was nothing if not determined to do things his way. The mission, Picard, the synths. . . All of it had gotten under the skin. The rings under Chris’s eyes were dark. Only one explanation for that. Emil knew enough about Chris’ medical history to know that he had become a functioning alcoholic after Captain Vandermeer. It wasn’t a hard thing to do, not when Alonzo Vandermeer had died right in front of Chris by swallowing a phaser. The loss had destroyed him. In true Starfleet fashion, he had not talked about it with anyone but Emil, and that was only because the holoprogram forced him to confront the feelings he kept buried. He never wanted to face that day again.

“You know this isn’t good for you.” The face staring back at him was worried, almost desperate. Chris could not take it anymore. He was sick of people pitying him. He would rather shove down those feelings or numb them out. The less he felt, the better off he’d be.

“The whole damn mission isn’t good for me, what’s your goddamn point?” Emil gave Chris a once over, cocking an eyebrow to stare at him. He knew Chris was stubborn, but as long as he had been part of La Sirena’s programming, all he had ever heard was how good it felt to be flying again, how the man whose face he wore didn’t feel quite so dead now that he was back to doing what he loved. At the core, he was right, the whole situation wasn’t good for him, not completely. He still needed to face his own issues. Getting some actual therapy would be a start, but how could he? It was impossible to do when he was on a mission that had no set end date.

“Because it brings up memories of what happened on. . .”, Chris knew exactly where this was headed, and he wasn’t prepared to face that topic just yet. It was still far too raw. 

“I don’t want to talk about the fucking ibn Majid! Not again. Not ever again. Why do you think I let you all be the ones to tell Raffi? Huh?! Deactivate EMH!” Emil had no choice but to comply, leaving Rios on his own. Though he had fought tears, they now poured down his cheeks. He could not even see straight enough to order more alcohol. That was good, it wasn’t needed. Not if he wanted to be alive to finish Picard’s grand quest and get paid. He couldn’t give up that easily.

Not if he wanted to stay alive. It was past time for him to stop wallowing in the past. To move on and step out of the shadows of the ibn Majid, learning how to live. For Chris, there was one thing he could not stomach. He was alone. Everyone who had ever cared about him was gone. It baffled him that he hadn’t done the same as Captain Vandermeer a long time ago. The man had treated him like a son, and then betrayed him. Chris had lost more than a captain that day. He had lost a trusted friend and father figure. But there was one loss that he had suffered in silence. He had never told anyone about the people on the ship, the ones he had called not only colleagues but close friends. He had never mentioned the mission that they were supposed to go on before it happened, why they had needed Jana and Flower. They were going to rescue the history of dying planet, when Captain Vandermeer had gone mad. Somehow, Chris had been spared, the only witness to the terrible happenings of that day, and he had been too traumatized to lay in their original course. He still had nightmares, worries about losing the people close to him.

 _I let her die. I can’t forgive myself for that— or talk about it. If I do, all it will ever bring me is pain_. Chris had tried to fill that pain, used Agnes Jurati as a distraction. But Agnes reminded him too much of the woman he had left behind—no—left to die. He had no way of knowing that she had survived. A part of him hoped that she had died, that she had forgiven the betrayal he had dealt her by escaping with his life. Even if she had made it out alive, there was nothing left for her; no sense of loyalty from Starfleet. For all he knew, she had been decommissioned and sent back to Earth with the same diagnosis. Being a survivor of that kind of tragedy had changed him, and it wasn’t exactly a change for the better. Perhaps she was better off dead, and he needed to let sleeping ghosts lie.

 _Maybe it’s time I talk to somebody other than the holos about this. About her. If I’m wrong, and she’s still alive, I have to find her. She could help us. What am I saying? I need another drink. No, not this time. I need a friend. Someone I can talk to, who’ll convince me I’m not losing it_. But where would he find that? Agnes Jurati had left the group a long while ago, and the consolation he had found in her arms, however fleeting, had been peaceful for him. Agnes had loved him, cared for him, and now it had all gone to hell. Maybe he did need someone to help plant his feet back on the ground. Only one person knew him well enough to do that.

_God, I hate involving Raffi in my problems. But I also know we’ve seen each other through too much for her not to have an answer for this. If she could give Aggie cake after she killed someone. . . Then, of course, she can help me. She’s a mother. Maybe that’s exactly what I need, someone to help me break out of this funk I’m in._

He just hoped he wasn't too late.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realizing Chris is in a funk, Raffaela tries to console him.

Rios was nearly in a stupor when he heard a knock at the door. He didn’t want to answer, but he knew that whoever had come looking for him had a good reason. He wanted to be alone. This crew was not going to let that happen. Much as he might have hated that, a part of Chris was grateful that they cared enough to look after him.

“Enter.”

“Chris, honey? You all right?”, Raffaela Musiker called into the room. The door slid open, and Raffi wandered in. He couldn’t help but wince when she caught sight of him and the look on her face turned sour. Raffi had enough problems; Chris did not need to be another one. But for him, she would do anything. He knew what would come next; she would sit on the bed and placate him, ask what was wrong. She would pretend to care. He didn’t want that. The last thing she needed was to mother a grown man who couldn’t even stand on his own two feet. He hated himself right now, and he’d be damned if he was going to drag any of this crew into a hole like that with him. They needed him to be clearheaded; ready to fly to the Borg Cube or wherever the hell else Picard decided he wanted to go. But having Picard on board only served to remind Chris that he had failed once; failed to protect the man he valued more than anyone else in the world. He thought that part of himself was closed off forever, but it was simply shut. Picard had been able to open the door, and Chris had not even known he had a key.

“S’okay, Raf.”, he slurred, hoping against hope that she would believe him. She wouldn’t, and he was a fool to even think such a thing was possible. For everything else she might be, Rafaela still had a mother’s instinct, and she worried about Chris as though he were her own. He was a replacement in her heart for the son she had left behind when her addiction to snake leaf had taken over. He braced himself for the lecture as she took a seat next to him. She sighed; she’d never seen him quite this bad before.

“I think we both know somethin’ is wrong here, baby. You are so drunk, you probably can’t see straight.”, admonished Raffi, her tone light and non-judgmental. She knew what it felt like to want to drown sorrows, to turn off the feelings that tugged at a person’s heart until all they felt was darkness and despair. She gathered him into her arms and held him close.

“I’m not gonna judge you, Chris. You’ve known me too long for that. Seen me through worse scrapes than you’re in right now. Hell, I was so miserable when we got on this damn mission,” Raffi paused for a musical laugh, “that you had to tuck me in for a change.” Before Chris could stop himself, his inebriated brain let his thoughts come spilling out.

“I shoulda died that day, Raf. I don’t deserve to live. I’m pathetic.” The moan that escaped him was almost too much for Raffi to bear, but she knew it was best to let him get the pain out of his system.

“Hush, child. You are anything but pathetic.” There was a light, gentle scratching sound at his scalp. Then Raffi spoke again.

“The holos told me about Vandermeer. Baby, that was not your fault. You couldn’t stop that man from wanting to die. There was nothing you could have done. You need to let that go.” The advice was sound, but Chris wasn’t sure he could take it. Not when so many others had died because of what happened that day. He didn’t want to be in this kind of pain. He wanted to be dead, just like his captain. But then, where would the rest of them be? La Sirena needed a pilot. The holos could only get Picard and his team so far. Even if they were programmed with his knowledge and history, they were still machines, with room for error. It was a chance that he couldn’t allow Picard to take. As great a captain as Picard had once been, he needed people around him for this mission.

“Not just Vandermeer.”, Chris whispered, finally sitting up. He put his head in his hands for a moment, and Raffi smiled. He was opening up on his own. She had hoped he would trust her enough to be honest about what he was feeling. Now she was getting to the root of the problem. This was going to be a long conversation. Maybe he wasn’t ready for it, but he needed to get the pain out of his system before it ate him alive. He’d gotten so good at shoving it down, drowning it in alcohol or jokes or brushing it off. entirely. But Raffi had seen that kind of pain before, and she would not let it slide.

“Why don’t I get us some coffee, hm? You get cleaned up a little, and then you can lay the whole story on Auntie Raffi.”

“It’s a long one. You sure you want to hear it?”

“We got nothin’ but time, baby boy. I’m serious. I’m gonna get us some cake and coffee, and you can spill your troubled little heart out. You go get that shower, okay?”

“Okay.” Lifting himself off the bed, Chris dragged his weary body around the ship. He was emotionally exhausted, too tired for all of this. There were too many things to tell. Too much history and pain for one man to go through. Even worse, he had been forced to carry it all alone, with no one who understood what he had been through. No one could relate to the experiences he had, the reasons he had been discharged; watching the Starfleet family he had built fall apart right in front of him. All because of one tragic action by a man he trusted.

When Chris returned, Raffi was waiting for him, a piece of cake sitting next to her. Chris had to laugh; sweets were Raffaela’s answer to any crisis. Sweets and conversation, the two things that Chris felt he did not need in this moment. Somehow, when she suggested them, it made sense. Maybe that was the mothering instinct in her that took over when she sensed someone needed support and care. He was fortunate to have her on his side. He made a mental note to thank her later. She wouldn’t accept it, but it needed to be done. He sat next to her with a weary smile, taking a sip of the glass of milk she set before him while she waited for the replicator to make a decent cup of coffee. After a bite of dulce de leche, he took a breath and began to let the tale unfold.


End file.
